Sitting on the edge of their bed, she put her head in her hands, her long curly hair falling from off of her shoulders, now covering her arms, and deeply cried. “Please Ka’wani, I will fail, I cannot do this, bring him back, the people will destroy us.” She said through her trembling fingers and tears.

“This girl is a domestic enemy doctor. She is a subversive communist sympathizer. What can you tell us about her.” The officer said professionally, with pencil and notebook in hand, ready to gather evidence against a nameless baby boy, and the misguided teen that died in order that he could live.

Her mother thought it was great that she had such an affinity for the beach, but at the same time, it worried her that she had become so eccentric at such a young age. It seemed as if she had some sort of strange obsession, a magnetism towards the water in a worrisome sort of way.